


Drink Your Vows

by potooyoutoo



Series: Jedi Advisor AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic Commando Series - Karen Traviss
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babysitting, Biting, Drunk Sex, Frenemies, Frottage, Light Masochism, M/M, Poor Life Choices, Poorly Resolved Sexual Tension, Pre-Relationship, drunk marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:49:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22864312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potooyoutoo/pseuds/potooyoutoo
Summary: 75 BBY - Walon Vau and Kal Skirata hate each other. It’s a well known fact. Sure, they work well together in the field, but in any other scenario? Not so much. When the two are put on babysitting duty, tensions will rise in a most unexpected way.
Relationships: Kal Skirata/Walon Vau
Series: Jedi Advisor AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643533
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Drink Your Vows

**Author's Note:**

> First off, a hundred thousand thank yous to the wondrous [CasualThursday](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualThursday/pseuds/CasualThursday) for being an amazing editor, co-plotter, and overall good sport about my ridiculous obsession with these fools.
> 
> Second, there's quite a bit of Mando'a in this, most of which was enabled by the fantastic [mandoa.org](http://mandoa.org/) which is an amazing resource for anyone interested in cool made up languages.
> 
> Lastly, for some context, this fic is part of a wider AU in which the True Mandalorians made an alliance with the Galactic Republic which included having a chosen Jedi Advisor appointed to work with the Mand’alor. Not a lot of that actually impacts this fic, but the timeline for the AU overall does affect certain character ages and whatnot.

“Can I trust you two not to kill each other while we’re away?”

Walon pointedly ignored the glare Skirata was sending him from the other side of the room, nodding politely as Krom glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Of course, Mand’alor.”

“No offense, sir, but I still don’t understand why this detail requires  _ two _ ramikade.”

_ For Manda’s sake _ . Walon fought the urge to roll his eyes as Skirata squared off against their leader, frown scoring deep lines into his forehead.  _ Karking chakaar wouldn’t have so much trouble getting dates if he would stop making di’kut’la faces like that. Going to get premature wrinkles _ . For her part, Krom just looked amused, buy’ce tucked under one arm as she considered Skirata. “Because I need competent men here while the majority of our forces are dealing with this situation.” Grinning, she reached out and ruffled Skirata’s hair and chuckled as Skirata’s frown deepened. “Udesii, Kal’ika. No need to go rushing off to find glory just yet.”

Satisfied, Krom turned away from the two of them. “So, Jaster. Are you going to be good for your ori’vode?”

The child in question was sitting on the floor in the middle of the living room, intermittently pulling Mird’s droopy jowls out and then up. Walon was honestly surprised by how patient the strill was being, but almost as soon as they’d entered the house, it had made a beeline for the child, snuffling and herding him around. Jaster paused in his game, glancing over at his mother before eyeing up Walon and Skirata. “Sure, buir.”

Shaking her head, Krom let her son go back to his game. “I’m not sure how long this will take, but if he gets to be a problem, feel free to pass him off to Ba’buir Dalaani for a few hours. He’s usually not too much of a handful, though, and he seems pretty intrigued by Mird, so you should be fine.” A short series of beeps came from her comm and she sighed, slipping on her helmet and heading for the door. “Alright, time to head out.” Giving Jaster’s hair one last ruffle, she was gone.

All in all, it could have been worse. Krom could have assigned them to do some sort of boring escort job for an annoying merchant or some other osik. Babysitting a six-year-old was not only easier, but involved significantly less interactions with backstabbing, slimy merchant types. Jaster was more than content playing with Mird and completely ignoring his minders, so Walon settled in with a holonovel he’d been trying to read for weeks. But Skirata, it seemed, was unable to sit still. Hell, it had taken Walon a solid half hour to convince Skirata to even take off his armor and just relax in his flight suit. Now, two hours later, Walon could sense the restlessness taking hold, watching from his perch on the couch as Skirata took to wearing a new pattern into the rug with his pacing. 

Sighing, Walon set aside his datapad, standing and stretching in a way that was guaranteed to catch Skirata’s eye. It was one of those funny things about Skirata that made him so much fun to mess with. For all his blustering and shouting and  _ insisting _ that he didn’t like Walon, Skirata definitely had eyes for few others, especially when Walon could be sure to get just a sliver of skin exposed when he stretched or bent just right. Across the room, Skirata stopped pacing, watching Walon with an air of suspicion. Lowering his arms, Walon glanced down at Jaster, who was curled up in the curve of Mird’s body, watching something on a datapad. “Well, I’m feeling a little bored,” Walon drawled, tracing his finger across a deck of cards that was sitting on the side table. Smirking, he picked it up and flashed it at Skirata. “How about a game, Skirata?”

Scoffing, but still clearly curious, Skirata crossed his arms. “What’s the point? You’ll obviously just cheat.”

Holding a hand to his chest in mock offence, Walon turned to Jaster. “Did you hear that, ad’ika? Skirata is calling my honor into question.”

For half a second, Jaster’s eyes flickered up towards him, raising an eyebrow. “Buir says you always cheat at cards.”

“It’s not  _ cheating _ . It’s strategy.” The silence that followed said plenty about what the present company thought of that. Narrowing his eyes, Walon stepped forward, settling gracefully on the ground beside the caf table and pulling the cards out of their pack. “Fine. How ‘bout I teach you?”

Interest piqued, Jaster shifted and set his datapad to the side, waking Mird who gave a disgruntled rumble before settling back to sleep. Scooting on his knees towards the caf table, Jaster said, “Okay, sure.”

“Hey, now wait just--”

“Alright, you know how to play sabacc?”

\--

Walon gently laid the sleeping kid in his bed, pulling the blankets up around him as Mird nosed its way up and under Walon’s arm. Giving the strill a few good scritches around the jaw, he patted the bed and let Mird climb up, protectively curling around Jaster who rolled over and murmured contentedly. Satisfied that the kid wasn’t going to wake up, Walon backed out of the room, letting the door slide shut behind him as he made his way toward the living room.

The sabacc lessons had gone over swimmingly, with Skirata eventually folding and joining them. Within an hour, Jaster was doing Walon proud and running circles around Skirata who could do nothing but watch the kid win. At some point, they’d taken a break, Skirata proving to be surprisingly good at cooking, before letting Jaster pick a holofilm to watch. He’d almost made it to the end, but eventually succumbed to sleep, and now Walon was faced with having to interact with Skirata without a buffer. As he passed the kitchen, Walon spied a bottle on an upper shelf and smirked.

Back in the living room, Skirata was sprawled across the couch, idly shuffling the cards. Upon hearing Walon’s soft footsteps, he glanced up, almost immediately zeroing in on the bottle and glasses in Walon’s hands. “What the hell, Vau?”

Grinning, Walon settled onto the other side of the couch, twisting off the top of the bottle and pouring them both a shot. “What? Krom said to make ourselves feel at home. Anyway, I’ll replace it, so don’t worry your little shebs, Skirata.” Setting the bottle aside, Walon picked up his glass, grin turning mischievous. Walon could feel Skirata’s eyes on him as he tipped his glass back, letting the tihaar slide down his throat with a delectable burn. Setting the glass on the table, he shot Skirata a heated look, and taunted, “Unless you think you can’t keep up?”

It was almost laughably easy to manipulate Skirata, Walon thought as he watched the other man sit up, eyes blazing, and reach for the second shot. He threw it back easily, setting the glass down with perhaps more force than strictly necessary, and glared at Walon. “Good enough for you, Vau?”

“Oh, I’m just getting started.” Walon poured them each another shot, deftly snatching the cards from Skirata’s lap and shuffling them. “Let’s play a game, Skirata. Whoever loses each round has to take a shot.”

“I literally just watched you teach a six-year-old how to cheat at sabacc for four hours. What about that makes you think I want to play a dumb game with you?”

“We won’t play sabacc. Just straight Desert Draw. No tricks, no ploys. Just luck.”

The silence stretched between them like taut fibercord and Walon could almost hear Skirata’s resolve crumbling. Within a minute, Skirata sighed. “Fine.”

\--

Walon was nothing if not a man of his word. The entire time, he hadn’t cheated  _ once _ , and now he was paying for it. The only satisfaction he got out of his muddled thoughts as he stared across the couch was that Skirata didn’t seem to be faring any better. So maybe finishing an entire bottle of high grade tihaar between the two of them hadn’t been a good idea, but damn if Walon was going to let his own stupidity get in the way of him having fun.

“Ssso,” he began, shifting forward and almost tumbling off the couch. “When’s the last time you got laid, Skirata?”

Oh, and wasn’t that a lovely shade of red?

Despite his blush, Skirata glared at Walon, eyes a little glassy and body swaying slightly in his seat. “S’none of yer business.”

“I bet,” Walon began, then paused as he tried to reorient himself better to lean into Skirata’s personal space, “I bet you’ve never. Yer prolly  _ saving _ yourself for someone.” Skirata attempted to shove him off, but failed miserably, only managing to give Walon a better angle to drape himself lengthwise along the sprawl of Skirata’s body. Pressed together the way they were, Walon could feel the way Skirata’s skin was burning through their clothes, either with embarrassment or just from the alcohol, he didn’t know. Grin widening, Walon murmured, “You’re such a  _ romantic _ , Skirata. Bet you wanna get married on a battlefield like a good little Mando boy. Have your first kiss under blaster fire. Have your first fuck--”

“Shut. Up!”

Walon was taken by surprise as Skirata managed to flip him bodily up and over, rolling them off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thud. Wind knocked out of him, Walon wheezed for a few breaths, eyes attempting to refocus as Skirata straddled his hips, hand fisted in Walon’s shirt. Skirata seemed lost, breathing heavy and unsure of what he wanted to do now that he had Walon at his mercy. Which suited Walon just fine. It was a side of Skirata that intrigued him the most: passion and power just barely held at bay by Skirata’s sense of… honor? Propriety? Walon wasn’t sure, but he wanted so desperately to see what Skirata looked like when he truly let go.

“C’mon, Skirata,” Walon urged, a breathy laugh chasing his words. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Shut you up.”

Skirata’s lips were surprisingly soft and equally demanding in a way that sent fire racing down Walon’s spine. It was addicting, the taste of tihaar on his tongue not completely hiding something spicy and enticing, drawing Walon in for more. Skirata’s weight on him was grounding, but Walon was quickly losing himself in all the sensations, so much so that he barely realised when Skirata pulled back to take a breath. When Walon looked up, eye catching Skirata’s, he was mesmerized by the wild look in his gaze.  _ This is it, this is what I was looking for. _

Desperate now, Walon reached up, dragging Skirata back into another hungry kiss, his knee coming up and inadvertently pressing Skirata’s now  _ very _ obvious hard on into Walon’s own. Both men moaned into each other’s mouths, thoughts too fuzzy to really keep pace with what they were doing, bodies moving on instinct alone. Skirata now had one hand buried in Walon’s hair, his grip painfully tight in the most delicious way. That same hand twisted suddenly, yanking Walon’s head back with a gasp as Skirata’s lips traveled across Walon’s jaw, down his neck. “ _ Mine _ .”

The word was low, growled against the hollow of Walon’s throat so that he could feel it reverberating against his skin. That sensation dragged another moan from Walon and he gasped, “Yes, fuck… Skirata… Yours! I’m yours!”

Apparently pleased by the response, Skirata grinned, grinding his hips down as he pushed aside the collar of Walon’s shirt. Collarbone now exposed, Skirata took the opportunity to bite down,  _ hard _ . Walon saw stars, a choked-off half-scream clawing its way out of his throat as his hips jerked and his fingers tightened into white-knuckle grips on the back of Skirata’s shirt. Mind still muddled with sensations, it took Walon a moment to register the movement of Skirata’s lips against his skin.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

_ Mine _ , he’d said, the word reverberating in Walon’s dazed mind as he felt Skirata continue to grind down against him, mouthing the words of the Mando’ade marriage vows over and over against Walon’s skin. In that moment, skin electrified, alcohol racing through his veins, it was all Walon could ever ask for. Without thinking, Walon reached up and curled his hand into Skirata’s short hair, pressing him closer and gasped, “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.”

On the final word, Skirata bit down again, teeth cutting a sharp, brilliant pain into Walon. It was all Walon needed, letting out a strangled cry as he felt himself tip over the edge. A moment later, Skirata shuddered against him, having reached his own climax. The aftermath was strangely still, the only sound their labored breathing. As Walon’s mind began to settle, he let his grip relax, running his hands distractedly along the curve of Skirata’s back.

“So--”

“No.” Skirata still had his face pressed into Walon’s neck, the words muffled as he shifted into a slightly more comfortable position, half on top of Walon. “M’too drunk for this. Sleep.”

Figuring Skirata meant what he said and frankly unwilling to move from what was a surprisingly comfortable place on the floor, Walon let himself relax as the warm comfort of Skirata’s body against his lulled him to sleep.

\--

Waking up to a full face of strill slobber was not on Walon’s list of ideal mornings. Groaning, he tried in vain to reach out to shove Mird away, but found his arms trapped by something heavy. Fluttering his eyes open, Walon winced, his head pounding as what could only be late morning light pierced his sensitive eyes. “Ugh… Karking… Mird! Get off!”

To his surprise, the strill’s incessant licking did stop, but the weight across his chest did not move. Squinting down his body, Walon froze as he realized that it was not, in fact Mird who had decided to use him as a pillow, but  _ Skirata _ .  _ What in all the sith kriffing hells _ … Trying desperately to remember anything from the night before, Walon glanced around the room, quickly taking in the empty bottle of tihaar, the cards,... and Jaster sitting in a chair across the room, watching the two of them with an expression hauntingly similar to his mother’s look of disappointment.

“Um…”

“Vau… what the--?” Skirata was stirring, causing Walon’s attention to shift back to the man sprawled across him.

“Skirata, I’m going to need you to--”

“What. The.  _ Kriffing _ \--!”

Slapping a hand over Skirata’s mouth and pointedly ignoring the mixture of fury and embarrassment in the other man’s eyes, Walon said, “Skirata, there are  _ children _ present.  _ Please _ try to control yourself.”

“Mom said you two were a mess, but I didn’t think you’d be  _ this _ much of a mess,” Jaster quipped, causing both Walon and Skirata to whip around to look at him. 

From the corner of his eye, Walon saw Skirata’s face redden even further as he took in the situation. In a flash, Skirata had thrown himself back and off of Walon, scrambling to his feet in a huff and walking purposefully towards the ‘fresher. Jaster and Walon were silent as they watched him go before sharing a look. As the kid raised an eyebrow, idly scratching Mird’s head, Walon groaned.  _ Krom is gonna  _ kill _ us. _

“Your neck is all messed up,” Jaster called, drawing Walon out of his thoughts.

Frowning, Walon sat up, lifting his hand to trace over the scabbed-over and unmistakable bite marks. Suddenly flashes of blurry memories began to filter in: Skirata’s mouth on his, on his neck, hands tangled in his hair.  _ Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde.  _ Cold terror raced down Walon’s spine as he instinctively turned to look at the ‘fresher door.

_ Well… fuck. _


End file.
